


For Love of the Language

by Maddy02



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Erotica, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Iambic Pentameter, Married Couple, Poetry, sex with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23637601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maddy02/pseuds/Maddy02
Summary: The King of Almyra had many schemes in place to bring his wife up to speed on the language. It’s these evenings, curled up beside him, or settled in his lap, as he reads to her that Byleth loves best. Even though she often ends up distracted
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 207
Collections: A Merry Kind of War





	For Love of the Language

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anam_Writes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anam_Writes/gifts).



> Since the beginning of time (March 2020) the evil, cruel and manipulative (exquisitely talented, unexceptionally kind and ludicrously beautiful) [Anam_Writes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anam_Writes/pseuds/Anam_Writes) she of the [Princes love dragons; it’s just a fact](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1610308) series and other beguiling (heart-rending) works has been toying with my tender emotions (toy ---no, that much is accurate) by sending snippets of her various works-in-progress to me to read and obsess over (Endlessly. Obsess over endlessly). She has even gone so far as to threaten to withhold posting unless I went to bed at a reasonable hour like I was some recalcitrant teenager! And then tried to pass it off as if she actually cares about my wellbeing! Because timezones. 
> 
> Lies I tell you. 
> 
> Then she went and posted [this little piece of exquisite pining](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23535478) and went all “Death of the Author” on me about what happened next.
> 
> So I did what any reasonable person would do.
> 
> I set myself on the path of vengeance. I declared before multiple witnesses of unimpeachable character that I would have my retribution.
> 
> Then Anam pointed out that she feeds on angst. Somewhat difficult to hurt that sort of person. But I very quickly realised she’d given herself away. She feeds on angst.
> 
> What, dear Reader, is the opposite of angst?
> 
> Yes, exactly.
> 
> So. Anam. Here is it. This is the form that my sweet, slow, fluffy, sexy vengeance has taken:  
> I will make you blush.

Reclined against her husband’s chest, idly running her hands along his arms as he reads aloud to her, his heartbeat a steady reassurance against her back, may perhaps be Byleth’s favourite place in all the world.

Claude’s voice had been a pleasure to listen to even in the midst of war. His reading voice however, slow and deep, turning the yet not-quite-familiar syllables of the Almyran tongue into something that slid across her like honey and tingled under her skin where she could _feel_ the vibration of them forming in his throat and passing into her –Oh, his reading voice was a weapon she had no defence against.

Her golden silk caftan rode high about her thighs as she arched into a luxurious stretch when he paused to turn a page. His own was the match of hers, but he never tied it properly and so it gaped open across the chest.

Byleth never complained.

His arms nestled comfortably in the curves of her waist as he held the book out before them, hers resting lightly atop, save for when she lazily lifted one up and behind to toy with the ends of his hair and whisper the tips of her fingers over the back of his neck. She’d discovered that this action was generally followed by a kiss at the next convenient pause and so employed it judiciously.

They had not made much progress through the book.

A small part of her lamented that. He’d chosen an anthology of various Almyran mythologies, fables and legends to work through, and she was enjoying it for itself almost as much as for the opportunity to simply have him read to her and to be close to him.

He concluded one story and dipped his head to kiss her, slow and heady, as he turned the page to the next. She _felt_ the slight twitch run through him, the smile that curved his lips against her own as he noted the title. As she withdrew Byleth could also see the spark of humour, of delight, in his eyes.

“What is it?” she asked, glancing at the page and back. Her spoken Almyran was coming along very well by this stage, but the script still eluded her.

“An old myth about wyverns.” He answered, resettling them and nuzzling into her hair “And a dragon and a deer, oddly enough. Do you want to hear it?”

“I think you want to tell it.” He laughed quietly at her reply, the short puffs of his breath sending shivers across her neck and down her spine. 

Claude pulled her back flush against his chest, pressing a kiss against the edge of her robe where it met her neck, before resting his chin on her shoulder to read from the page.

“When the world was new, the great spirits shaped the land, playing with it at their whim. One day, he whom we call the King of all Forests climbed a mountain near his dwelling and laid eyes on the Sky-Queen, at play there.

Every turn of her scaled wings birthed a new wind; joyful breezes, chilling zephyrs, fierce gales and warming currents, in each and all directions. As he watched her dance in the air above, the Forest King fell in love.

And ‘lo she twirled through the air  
Far above his forest throne  
He knew her beauty to be beyond compare  
Still, his cloven tread cleaved to stone -”

“Oh, poetry” Byleth interrupted, “No wonder you like this one.” 

“Yes, now hush” Claude agreed, nudging his head against hers. Byleth laughed silently and swivelled herself round in his lap so she could look up and watch him speak, her temple resting against his collarbone and fingers teasing along the open drape of his robe, drawing patterns that crossed over silk to skin and back again.

“Beyond his reach she flew from sight  
He could not follow in her play  
So in defeat descended from the height  
In blessed glade his head to lay  
Far from that mountain bound his great leap  
And verdant bower sprung around  
As he knelt and in despair did weep  
Kingly crown of bone at rest upon the ground  
About him the forest grew in lush spars  
But away above she chased after stars

And so the King lay weeping, as the Queen of the Skies tried to catch a star, but she could not pierce the night above her and so, exhausted at last, looked for a place where she might sleep.”

“And found his glade?” Byleth guessed, her fingers now toying downwards to tease at the knot that belted his robe. Claude hummed an agreement, dropping a kiss to the top of her head as he turned the page.

“Watered by his tears, the dell had grown abundant, trees and vines twisted their way towards the heavens. Ferns and night-blooming flowers glowed luminescent in the moonlight, cushioning his head and creeping over to blanket him. From far away the Sky-Queen could see that sacred vale, and drifted over towards it. But the canopy overhead repelled her and she could not pass through to the beauty she could see below. And so to slip between the branches she took to simpler form.”

“Simpler form?” she questioned, brows drawn together as she stumbled over the Almyran, her hands stilled from their exploration. Claude watched amused as she rolled the words around, breaking them into parts and all but tracing the etymology of the term until; “Shapeshifting?” she offered, using the word from Fódlan.

“The Great Spirits walked among men to cause all manner of mischief, we’re told.” He agreed, and then rewarded her clever thinking with the slide of his tongue on hers. One hand dropped from the book to run up along her thigh edging the hem of her caftan even higher than it had already ridden. Byleth threaded her hands into his hair to return the kiss with a happy hum of contentment which turned into a moan as her husband then kissed his way down to the pulse at her neck. “Where was I?” he murmured into her skin as he mirrored the path back up to her lips on the other side.

“The Queen had just slipped into something more comfortable.”

Claude laughed aloud, his hand abandoning her thigh to tip her chin so he could easily pepper quick kisses across her face. “Why did I ever teach you the fine art of innuendo?” he lamented, but when he pulled away the look in his eyes was fond –and dark.

“Because you enjoy being teased _almost_ as much as you enjoy teasing me.” Byleth replied, catching his hand and pressing a hot kiss to the very tip of each finger. His breath hitched and she looked up at him from under her lashes “But do, please, continue.”

His eyes danced between her lips, the book and the knot of her robe that she had so very conveniently lowered his hand over. He began slowly pulling it loose, and winked at her as the hard heat of his pleasure pressed against her leg.

There was a sort of power, a thrill, in knowing that they both knew how this would play out and yet silently agreeing to prolong it.

“The Queen, trading scale and claw for flesh and limb, flittered her way down through the branches” he continued, as he pulled the sash at her waist free and tossed it aside “and found herself a comfortable nook to curl up in, but as she closed her eyes to sleep she heard the sound of the King’s weeping.” Claude lifted a finger to the base of her neck and drew it slowly, slowly, softly down her skin, until it caught the hemmed edge of silk and began to part the sides of her robe as he drew that finger inch by careful inch down between her breasts. He wasn’t even looking at the book anymore, Byleth registered absently, as she stroked down his chest once again to repay the favour and fumble with the knot on his robe “Yet for all that the wind may howl and bite, the Queen of the Skies was a kind soul, who would offer her aid to any who might need it. It was natural for her, to slip to the forest floor and find her way through the splendour of all that grew there to where he lay.”

Claude’s finger had reached her belly, but instead of continuing down, his warm hand curved over her hip and moved firmly upward, pulling the silk from her shoulder. A moment later the book snapped shut as he abandoned any pretence that he didn’t know this story by heart, and dropped it so he could haul her up to face him, her legs wrapped around his waist and they were each so very _aware_ of the scant gap between them as he ran both hands up her back to slide the robe off her. Byleth took advantage of the new position to trail kisses across his clavicle and finally do away with the knot on his robe.

“ _I prithee Lord, why do you lay weeping? Wilt thou give thy cares into my keeping_?”

He used a softer voice for the Queen, but gave Byleth no time to parse the archaic terms, distracting her with one hand on her breast, the other trailing his warmth across her skin on its way back down her spine to curve over her ass and _squeeze_.

“Even in her half-form, the King recognised her at once.

_Do I dream, fair Lady?_

_I am waking._

_Then blessings are with me. I cried for thee_.

Now, the Queen was an extraordinarily beautiful creature.” Claude insisted, pressing a kiss under her jaw “Smart,” the corner of her lips “talented,” the other side “strong. Kings and Emperors would fight and die for her favour. She might have any of them that she chose.” Whispered hurriedly as he shrugged his arms out of his robe, the silk pooling around his waist, trapped under Byleth’s legs, his hands then swiftly returning to tease over her sides. “She was well used to turning aside her would-be suitors with a challenge none could meet. 

_Ah, me. Queenly price is not bought in tears, but by the light of stars._

_I swear no bars_  
_betwixt us shall lie. One moment only._ ”

Byleth’s hands fisted in the silk at his back, trying ineffectually to pull it away as it was trapped between them. Claude was in no way helping her quest as he pulled her flush against him, groaning as she ground instinctively down, crushing the silk further. 

“The king rose up from his repose and reared onto his hind legs, craning towards the sky. The canopy overhead opened for him and-” Claude shuddered as Byleth ground into him once again “he rose higher until his crown scraped against the night sky. With one quick thrust he pierced it, and caught in the prongs a glimmer of stars, trailing golden dust down onto him and the glade surrounding them. Carefully he lowered once more, and shrank himself into simpler form with her, his crown still blazing golden starlight as he stood before her. He took a star from that crown of bone and held it out to her

_The price is paid now, Lady fair._

_The bargain binds me true. So come, and come my King._

The Queen accepted the star, and with it the King. Then and there he bore her down into the loam-” Claude urged her up onto her knees so he could reach his hand between her legs. Byleth was at last able to tear the final silken barrier between them away, a high whine of pleasure escaping her as he crooked first one then two fingers within, testing her readiness.

She was abundantly ready.

“- a-and _claimed_ her.” He gasped as Byleth’s hand stroked over velvet heat, her moans in his ear as she leveraged her new height to nuzzle her face against his neck. “And so that is how wyverns came to have their crowns,” he continued, determined to finish “for their father was the King of all forests and gifted his to them that they would always remember his love, however far they might roam. And just beyond the reach of men stands a glade where no breeze blows, for the Sky Queen takes her rest there, and the Forest King will suffer no interlopers.”

“Protective, is he?” Blyeth asked, breathily, and nearly jumped off his fingers entirely as his thumb slid up to provide her friction where she most wanted it.

“Men in love often are, or so I’ve found.” Claude groaned in response as her hand tightened on him.

And it was this out of everything that caused Byleth to blush. _Action_ came easily to her, but speaking of her feelings and hearing of his in return still undid her.

“Love you too” she managed, ducking her head to hide the blush.

“Again.” He begged, nudging her head up with his so he could meet her eyes, gaze intense with heat and lust and _feeling_ “Say it again.”

“I love you. I love you.” she managed, first in Almyran and then Fódlan, the words coming easier as she alternated between them, before she was left gasping as he pulled his hand from her, gripping at her hips instead to ease her forward once more.

She clenched desperately around nothing as she lined them up, and could have drowned in his eyes as she at last sank down upon him. “I love you, I love you, Claude, Khalid, I love you.”

Her husband’s arms wrapped firmly around her back, one to her shoulder one to her waist as he gave them that precious, infinite, moment to adjust.

“With me?” he asked and Byleth nodded against his shoulder. 

The lower of Claude’s warm hands curved over her ass again and _lifted_ , moving with her as he twisted and laid her down on the cushions beneath them. He rested heavily on one forearm, the other hand tangled fingers with hers somewhere above her head, her ankles locked round his back, pulling him in.

“Anywhere. Anything.” She gasped in their lover’s shorthand as he rocked into her.

Her free hand slid into his hair to pull him down for a kiss before they had to break apart, stealing each other’s breath as together they reached after stars.


End file.
